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Blue Dragon 6
Blue Dragon 6 is an encounter in Civil War. Enemies * Royal Battle Mage (100 Gold, 100 XP, 100 Energy, 3/4/4 HP) * Royal Alchemist (100 Gold, 100 XP, 100 Energy, 3/4/4 HP) Transcript Introduction When they took him from his village, Nevis' head was filled with dark and terrible things. He'd expected to be hurled straight onto a bloody battlefield -- where he'd die like Hadric. That fear seemed unreal and absurd now, after days of training, hunting, and camaraderie. "Stop daydreaming and focus!" Yaealina said. "Oh..." Nevis blinked away his reverie and stabbed King Crenus with renewed vigor. The dummy -- sacks of straw arranged around a wooden frame, adorned by a little crown -- quivered with each blow. He and Chumgrak had hunted game several times since that first foray, either alone or with the others. And the orc had always been friendly and helpful. Whatever he was up to, he didn't seem to mean Nevis any harm. So though the boy was still wary around his orcish companion, his fear had all but evaporated. He'd only told Ryli about Chumgrak's curious nocturnal exploits. She'd promised to keep an eye out, and inform Nevis if she observed anything suspicious. Thus he now slept untroubled at night. "No, no, no!" The half-elf clasped his forearm, her warmth spreading through his flesh. He almost dropped his dagger. "I told you, don't pull your arm so far back. It shows your enemy what the attack's going to be, and it slows you down." Yaealina preened more than ever these days. And she had reason to. By now everyone in the camp had seen her train, leaping between the dummies and striking in each direction like a hydra, and she'd received praise from all quarters. Carolyn even said it would almost be cheating to unleash her on the battlefield. "Like this." She drew his arm through the motion, while she replicated it with the dagger in her other hand. He wondered if she felt his arm tingling at her touch. Theadric had been the only fly in the ointment, always there with a sneer or jibe -- maybe a kick or cuff if no one else was present to witness a so-called hero playing the part of a crude thug. He'd piled chores on Nevis whenever he had the chance. And young recruit couldn't refuse, not with his elders and superiors watching. But now all was well. Duty had called Theadric and a band of other warriors away, leaving the camp without his presence and Nevis free from his bullying. "Useless!" the half-elf said. "Useless!" She walked off. Since all their training sessions seemed to end with such words, he didn't take it to heart. Instead he focused on the warmth that lingered where she'd held him. "Dream when you're asleep." Ryli's voice made him whirl round, blushing. "You're supposed to be helping me today." Nevis just nodded, too embarrassed to speak, and followed her. The felpuur always made him feel as if she knew what he was thinking. Perhaps her feline nose could smell it rising from him in an odorous cloud. They left the camp and rambled over the dales. Windswept grass rustled around their calves, a gentle susurration. Ryli liked to wander across the countryside. And accompanying her had allowed him to escape Theadric more than once. Even now, when the bully was at a safe distance, it was still pleasant to leave the bustle of the tents and campfires, to journey through lonely and untouched places where the war seemed more distant than ever. "Has Chumgrak..." Nevis said. The corner of the felpuur's mouth twitched. "I haven't seen him betraying us, if that's what you're asking." She sniffed the air, closed her eyes, and purred. Wildflowers dotted the landscape in sumptuous splashes of color. Their sweet, almost cloying fragrance was strong and pleasing even to his human nostrils. He couldn't imagine what they were like for her. Maybe her world was a riot of bright and beautiful scents and shades, as glorious and delicious as the baker's shop on festival days -- when trays of cakes cooled in his windows and temptation's aroma snaked through the village. They walked on in comfortable silence, enjoying the birdsong and the bubbling of a little brook, the waving trees and the gossamer webs that threaded them in pretty patterns like a tailor's lacework. This was a new direction, one they were exploring for the first time. Ryli liked to roam and experience whatever new paths held. This time she was soon rewarded. "Beautiful," she said. Nevis stared at the hilltop. The base of tower rose broken and battered from the encroaching foliage, which crept up its side as though trying to drag it down into nature's inescapable clutches. It must have been an impressive structure once. The stone blocks bore the last traces of forgotten grandeur. "It's a ruin," he said. "Yes. Abandoned. A relic of the past left behind for anyone who seeks lost things." She ascended the hill, dropping to all fours when the going was tough. Nevis clambered up after her, snatching at shrubs and thick, gnarled roots for support. The cleric often made those enigmatic statements. He usually just humored her. Ryli paused near the top and sniffed at the air. "Chumgrak!" she called. "Chumgrak?" Nevis whispered. "What's he doing out-" But she was already moving up to the tower. Nevis hurried in her wake, grabbing for handholds. He crested the hill and came face to face with the orc. Chumgrak grinned at him, while one green hand fastened the clasp of the knapsack he wore slung over his shoulder. "Nevis!" "Chumgrak. What're you doing here?" "Just exploring. Ruins could have treasure!" "Find anything?" "No. Just stone. Good stone, but too big for loot." Nevis glanced at the orc's bag. Chumgrak grinned again, nodded to the human and felpuur in turn, and sauntered down the hill. His voice floated back up to them, ensconced in song. "He seized the armory with one grim piercing look, And all the people's weapons from the vile king's dogs he took, Across West Kruna's lands craven hearts wept and shook, For now we march to war." Nevis looked at Ryli. She just shrugged and headed towards the crumbling archway that led into the tower. He stayed where he was for some minutes, watching Chumgrak set out across the plain below. When he followed her inside she was kneeling by a pile of rubble and pawing through it. "Why would he-" Nevis said. But once again the felpuur brushed the half-uttered question aside. "Look!" she said. She lifted something into the light. Motes of dust danced around it, captured in a shaft of sunlight from a hole in the wall. It was a leather bracelet. She began to put it around her left wrist, but stopped and came over to Nevis. "Here." She fastened it around his wrist instead. It was old and creased. An animal had nibbled away at one of its edges. But there was something pleasing about it all the same. "Lost things can always find new purpose," she said. The two of them rummaged through the stonework and debris for quite some time, uncovering whatever lay hidden. Nevis found a small, smooth stone that he was sure must once have been flung by a long-dead warrior's sling. He added it to the ammunition in his pouch. Ryli took a few scraps of metal and ancient fabric. She found an iron ring too, designed to fit a man's finger. But this she left, nestled at the edge of the cranny which had hidden it from sight. The next explorer would be sure to notice it. She smiled at her handiwork. It was a pleasant walk back to the camp, though the air grew colder and a light rain fell from the gathering clouds. Nevis found his mind drifting over the countryside and forgetting all about Chumgrak and his suspicions. Until they returned to the tents, and the orc ran up to meet them. "Battle!" he said, laughing. "There's going to be battle!" *** "The storehouses are here." Theadric draws in the dirt with a stick, amidst the crude terrain he's marked out, and inscribes an X. The rest of you, sitting or squatting in a small circle around him, lean forward. "A walled fort?" Tessa asks. She meets your gaze over his map. The disaster at the armory is too fresh in both your minds, echoed now by the stinking aftermath of battle, the smell of burning flesh, and by the carrion birds circling high above. Theadric's warriors and your own are gathering the dead. Pyres of orcs and men brighten the ground and darken the heavens, bearing their smoke up to any god who cares. "No. They're not fortified, so there won't be a siege. And our spy said all the food's still there." "They'd be sodding stupid to leave it there long, with your lot eating up the blooming region." Theadric smiles. His entire body seems to swell at the Titaran's assessment. And he should be proud, of everything he and Carolyn have achieved. "They want to abandon the position and take it all with them," he says. "Why haven't they?" you ask. "They don't have enough carts or wagons. They sent for some, but we ambushed them on the road before they got anywhere near. And burned them." War gleams in his eyes. Whatever he was doing before it erupted, it's part of him now. Just like you. "There's a reason you haven't attacked it yourselves," Tessa says. "General Berund's army. They're based here." Again he scratches the dirt. "It'll take your people and ours to break them." You and Tessa glance at one another again. Theadric looks from you to her and back again. "Come to our camp," he says, "and see what we have. Then decide." The offer seems a fair one, so you accept. Conclusion Brawl boss unlocked! "Chumgrak is bored!" "Quiet!" Yaealina glared at him. When the orc announced that they were going to battle, scenes of gory strife had filled Nevis' head. They'd evaporated not long after -- when he heard the facts from Carolyn. The rebels intended to raid an outpost where some of the gold dragons' mages and alchemists worked in secret and made use of rare herbs that couldn't be obtained elsewhere in the kingdom. But they were shorthanded with Theadric's people away. "Chumgrak wants fighting, not... Not fighting." "If you don't shut up, orc," the half-elf said, "you'll be fighting me." He grunted. Old goblin tunnels threaded the ground beneath the outpost, and no one knew how extensive they were or where their entrances lay concealed. Thus Carolyn had cast a wide net. Her orders had scattered small bands of recruits across the area, with orders to kill any foes who managed to escape the main attack. Nevis, Ryli, Yaealina, and Chumgrak had been stationed together. And for some time they'd hidden in the bushes and watched the narrow forest trail with sharp, eager eyes. But vigilance was difficult to maintain when nothing appeared to be happening or indeed likely to happen. Nevis was no military strategist, yet even he knew Carolyn wouldn't have placed four raw recruits in a place where she expected combat to erupt. This suited him just fine. "Chumgrak-" "Listen," Ryli said. Her voice was a hiss, low but piercing. It made the orc go quiet and the half-elf tighten her grip on her daggers. One of the felpuur's furry ears twitched and swiveled. The others turned their heads in the same direction, peering through the foliage. "There's nothing-" Nevis whispered. Her hand clamped over his mouth and silenced him, its soft pad smothering his lips. She put her head next to his and sniffed. Ryli's eyes expanded into black circles. Nevis' eyes widened too, when a woman's voice rang out. "Looks like we're clear." "Did you see what happened to Drummond?" a man's voice said. "A goblin threw a knife through his eye." "Bastards!" The felpuur cleric extracted her head from the bushes without a sound. The other three did the same and crouched there, looking to her. She held up three fingers, sniffed a couple of times, and added three more. Yaealina started to rise. Ryli shook her head, and waved the half-elf back down. Yaealina frowned but did as bidden. "Yydian, Lord of the Lost, concealer and revealer," she murmured, "show what has been hidden." Her black eyes flashed blue. Gasps and exclamations came from further down the trail. "Margot! The spell's stopped working!" "I can see that! I mean... I can see us." "I told you to keep it on till we were out of the forest!" "I didn't dispel it. Someone else did!" "Oh... Oh! It's an amb-" Nevis acted fast. Not because he was brave, or reckless, but because he knew that if he waited he'd lose his nerve. He sprang to his feet, sling already spinning, and let fly the second his gaze fastened on the robed man's head. The lead bullet followed the boy's eye. It caught the mage right between his. "Ambush!" the woman shouted. She was short and plump, more a matron than a battle mage despite her white and purple uniform. "Ambush!" Ryli grabbed Nevis and dragged him down. A bolt of cyan lightning split the air overhead, crackling with the sharp scent of arcane energy. "They're in the bushes! They're in the bushes!" she said. "Fireballs! Fireballs!" "Aaaaarrrrgggghhh!" "You idiot!" someone cried. "He got in the way!" Tongues of red-orange light flared through the trees. The smell of burning flooded Nevis' nostrils. Ryli released him, and he poked his head over the bushes. A robed man blazed like a bonfire, screaming face, thrashing limbs, and blackening clothes all shrouded in greedy waves of flame. There were four others -- the woman, two men in mail shirts and tabards, and a third wearing a purple tunic. They scattered, falling away from their doomed comrade. Nevis pressed another bullet into his sling. His eyes stayed fixed on the horrific image, the fire and anguish, but his hands worked of their own accord. His second missile wasn't as accurate as his first. But it hit the man's throat and put him down. His corpse burned in the middle of the path. "Kill!" Chumgrak said. "Kill!" One of the soldiers ran past, blundering deeper into the forest. Chumgrak got up and chased after him, brandishing his axe, roaring his war cry. The other sprinted down the trail alongside the robed woman. Ryli pounced, paws and claws snagging the mage's garments and dragging her down. The two of them rolled on the ground, human screeching and slapping, felpuur growling and clawing. The soldier took one look at the melee then carried on running. But Yaealina slid out into his path, swift as a shadow. He faltered. She lifted her dagger. And froze. The soldier smashed the crown of his mailed head down into her face. Her nose exploded in a great crimson burst. She collapsed, crumpled in a heap, and he raised his sword to finish her -- screaming more in fear than bloodlust. Nevis ploughed into him. His dagger clinked and skidded off mail, thwarted. But his weight made his enemy stagger. The soldier turned, still off-balance, sword rising. Nevis shrieked and thrust again, and again, and again, jabbing in a deranged frenzy. The soldier was shrieking as well, their voices forming a banshee chorus. Blood splashed across his mail coif. A cheek hung loose, flapping like a forlorn banner. His sword clattered on the path. Nevis kept stabbing. The soldier fell, still screaming, both hands clutching his ravaged face. Nevis could only stare. His stomach clenched as though in an ogre's grasp. But Yaealina crawled over to the wounded man on her hands and knees, nose gushing and painting the ground beneath her. She thrust with her straight dagger. He shuddered once and lay still. "Get back, orc! Get back!" The last of their enemies, the man in the purple tunic, came towards them -- retreating before Chumgrak's blood-splattered axe. Ryli rose from the mage's inert form and turned to him. He spun round, looking at her, Nevis, and Chumgrak in turn. "All of you! Get back!" He raised his right arm in the air, brandishing a bottle. Sloshing blue liquid filled its bulbous glass body. "This is Wraith's Wrath, the most dangerous alchemical mixture in the world! If I drop it, we're all dead! Dead!" He glared at Nevis, eyes wide and wild. The boy backed away. The man grinned, skin stretching on his long face till it resembled a fleshless skull, and waved the bottle at Ryli. "Back, felpuur! Back! I'll kill us all!" She hissed and retreated. But Chumgrak advanced. "Chumruk..." Yaealina groaned. "Buk! Gut buk!" The orc kept going, grinning, clutching his axe. "Chumgrak!" Nevis said. "No! He'll kill us! He'll-" "He will do no such thing," the orc said. "I'm quite certain of it." Nevis blinked. "I'll do it!" the man said. "I-" "What will you do? Freshen our breath? That isn't Wraith's Wrath. With that scent, that hue, and that viscosity, I believe you're threatening us with a bottle of Narm's Maw Mellower." "Oh, gods!" He turned, dropped the bottle, and tried to run. The orc's axe thudded in his back before he'd gone two paces. Chumgrak stood over the man's corpse, pulled his blade free, then seemed to become aware of the others' startled faces. "Ah..." he said. "I... I meant... Chumgrak kill?" He sighed. Category:Civil War